Girly
by Oni-at-heart
Summary: Alfred’s always kept her secret from everyone but on one winter afternoon Russia finds out. Russia/fem!America
1. Chapter 1

Title: Girly

Disclaimer: I do not own

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: genderbending

Characters/Pairings: Russia/fem!America

Summary: Alfred's always kept her secret from everyone but on one winter afternoon Russia finds out.

Russia knocked on Alfred's door with his pipe hard enough that dents formed in the wood. The smile he usually wore was absent as he waited for it to open. It had been too long since he had gotten into a good fight with anyone who could handle him. There had been that little incident of playing with Georgia but that hadn't been nearly enough fun for him. He hoped he would be obliged with a good fight here, he was sure he could convince the other man if he proved unwilling, with a pipe in hand he was good at convincing. When there was no answer from within Ivan sighed and decided he would just break in and wait until he got home. He kicked down the door and imagined that the property damage would only help convince Alfred they needed to fight. He padded through the hallway, enjoying how warm he kept his house, to the living room and paused.

Facing away from him was Alfred sleeping on the couch, his bomber jacket thrown on the floor as he basked in the winter sunlight that was streaming through the window. He had never seen America in just a tank top before and took in the sight of powerful forearms and shoulders with no compunctions. It was enough to make him put his intentions of waking him on hold for a few minutes. Ever since they had met Russia had thought that if America could only see things his way they would be good together.

With forceful hands he pulled Alfred over so that he could see his face. He didn't expect him to wake up, he hadn't woken up when he had banged on the door or broken in after all, but what he saw surprised him even more. On America's chest were boobs, breasts, whatever. Then his eyes flicked up to meet startled blue ones before he was kicked in the stomach by bare feet. He stumbled back as Alfred stood and pulled on his, her jacket like that could make what he had seen be unseen. As soon as it had been zipped she demanded, "What are you doing here?"

For one of the few times in his long life the nation found himself unsure of what to say, "I, uh. I came here to yell at you but it's impolite to shout at a woman who just woke up." He smiled, yes that had come out nicely, who said Americans were the best at thinking on their feet? His wish to fight was put aside for later, this would be much more fun.

She paled and gaped at him before saying, "Oh god."

The look of horror was good on her and he taunted, all the while keeping his sweet smile in place, "So all this time you were a girl..."

Alfred regained some of her bravo and stood straighter as she said, "That doesn't matter, I can still be the hero." He would have almost believed that she was confident if not for the way her hands clenched the fabric of her blue jeans.

Still pretending to be friendly he nodded, "Of course, haven't you ever heard of my Catherine the Great?" Then he gave her a knowing look, "But I must wonder at how you always hid your gender, could it be you were ashamed?" Not that there was anything to be ashamed of but she obviously thought so and that was what mattered.

She shrugged, "Arthur just thought I was a boy and I never bothered to correct him." Though she had to admit that she was thankful for when baggy clothes had come into style.

His smile became more pointed a he said, "Of course, though actually I've never seen you not wearing some kind of jacket, even when we were in the Pacific. I suppose you wear them just because they're comfortable." He was finally shifting to the attack and loved the way she flinched, Alfred had never been any good at hiding her emotions.

Alfred put her hands on her hips, "They, besides I don't see how it's anybody's business." After a short pause she said, "You won't tell anyone right?" The moment the words left her mouth she hated herself, saying that was like waving a big flag that had the word WEAKNESS painted on it right in his face.

Russia shook his head, "Don't worry I won't say a word." For now, until he could find someway to use this to his advantage.

She scowled, "You better not. Now get out of my house." Every instinct was yelling at her to just hit the bastard and beat him up until he agreed never to tell, but she knew that wouldn't work on him. The one thing she could count as a blessing was that they were no longer engaged in the Cold War.

"Very well." He let her herd him to the door and enjoyed the sight of her scowl deepening and her fists clenching tighter at the sight of what he had done. Once he was outside he commented, smile still on his face, "Oh, by the way, I would be careful not to upset me in public. Otherwise I might mix up my pronouns and that would be dreadful."

"Fuck you!"

Ah his silly little Alfred, she always had such a temper, it made it so much fun to play with her, he would have to come back for that fight some other time. "You're so rude, but I understand, you're distraught." He gave a mocking bow before saying, "Goodbye." and turning to leave.

America watched him go until he was out the gate and then picked up the door to put it back where it belonged. As soon as the door was in place she screamed and heaved the coat rack to the floor. It didn't make her feel better but at least she was doing something. She calmed down a little and sighed as she ran her fingers through the hair she had always made sure to keep short, though it was getting a little long. That had gone better than she had imagined it would when she was found out to be a girl. But she was sure at some point Ivan would try and use the knowledge he had to his advantage.

It was odd to know that someone knew after so long hiding the fact. When she was younger she had seen the way women were supposed to follow men but she hadn't wanted that. She wanted to be at the front exploring and hunting. The first time she had consciously kept her gender secret was from Arthur. He had already been restricting her so much with an excuse for every action, she hadn't wanted to give him another. But now Russia knew, but heroes didn't give into fear, she would just wait for him to try something and then kick his ass.

Ivan slipped between his sheets, not even noticing the chill of the fabric. It had been a good day at work, though his boss had asked multiple times if he would 'please stop smiling like that' because it was making him uneasy. But how could he after finding out something so wonderful? He loved power, basked in it, he only allowed the strong to be his boss. If they were weak he crushed them, no mater what family they came from. Ever since he had successfully freed himself from England, one of the most powerful nations at that time, he had been interested in America. How many times had he laid on these exact same sheets and pretended it was America's hand instead of his own, all that strength reigned in to pleasure him?

The knowledge that America was really a girl made the power she wielded even more attractive, more beautiful in its rarity. The best part was no one else knew America's secret, it was his alone. He didn't want to share the knowledge with anyone else, it was better like this. But America didn't need to know that, just having the threat hanging over her head would be enough. Though, maybe he could use it differently, not as a tool to control her but a way to make her come willing to him. That was a good idea, for all her brashness there had to be some part of her that was too feminine to show the world. He would gain her affection by being an outlet for that, and after that he would convince her to become one with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Girly

Disclaimer: I do not own

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: genderbending

Characters/Pairings: Russia/fem!America

Summary: Alfred's always kept her secret from everyone but on one winter afternoon Russia finds out.

The clock chimed midnight and Ivan frowned at the stack of papers still before him, this was getting ridiculous. Over the last few days he had been growing steadily behind in his work because he kept thinking about America. He would wonder how much she was panicking about him knowing her secret. Then he would try and picture her with long hair and wearing a sundress. What did she look like under that jacket? The slight glimpse he had gotten of her had been just enough to shock him but no concrete image had formed itself in his mind. He shook his head, there he went again. There would be time to think of her later but for now he had to get back to work.

He had just fallen into a rhythm when he was halted by the feeling of eyes on him. Ivan looked up to see a maid staring at him like she was wondering if he was okay. He was just about to ask what was the matter when he realized that he had been humming "America the Beautiful" under his breath.

He growled in annoyance with himself and the maid fled. This was not the way this was supposed to go, he was not the one supposed to be entirely fixated, she was the one supposed to be thinking about him. If she was going to invade his thoughts then he should just visit her instead of just sitting here. He would pack for a short trip immediately and sleep on the way there.

The loud knocking on her door woke America and she blinked and stared at the alarm clock, it was eleven so she couldn't justifiably bash their head into the floor, she might do it anyway it was England though. She had finished all her paperwork at nine last night and had decided that she had time for some videogames, but she had gotten so sucked into it that by the time she looked at the clock it had been five in the morning. But six hours of sleep wasn't that bad right? Once she got a burger and coffee in her she'd be raring to go. But first she needed to answer the door; just in case it was Russia she didn't want to have to fix the door again. She threw on her jacket before heading to the door, giving a half assed attempt at making it look a little less like she had just climbed out of bed, though the flannel pajama pants were probably a dead give away. When she opened the door she saw Russia standing there, they stared at one another before he cocked his head and asked, "Isn't my good friend America going to invite me in?

Damn, her morning just had to suck didn't it? For any other country she would have forced a smile and started blabbering away but because it was Ivan she settled with an annoyed, "Whatever." Then she turned and walked towards the kitchen, she knew he'd follow her in and she really needed food if she was going to handle him while she was half awake.

As he followed her he noticed that under her jacket she was wearing pajamas and her hair was even more of a mess than usual and asked, "Did I wake you?" It would figure that she was lazy enough to sleep in until eleven.

She nodded as they entered the kitchen and headed straight towards the fridge. "Yeah, I had a late night."

Russia took a seat at the table knowing that America wouldn't even think to invite him to do so. "I see, you must have too much work on your plate." Or maybe she hadn't been able to sleep knowing that he knew her secret, the thought made him smile.

Not even really paying attention she said, "Sure, let's say that." Then she found the plate of burgers she had left in the fridge and pulled them out. She hummed quietly to herself as she popped them into the microwave and proceeded to get out the buns and started the coffee pot up.

"Is that your breakfast?" He had seen America eat such food at early meetings before but had always thought that was just for convenience sake.

"Yep, want some?" It was at least polite to offer since they never gave out food on airplanes anymore. Besides, maybe if Russia was busy chewing he wouldn't start talking until she was done too.

"A burger please."

After she wolfed down her food as fast as he had seen a bear demolish a deer she stood and announced, "I'm gonna go get changed so just stay down here and don't mess with anything." She would still have to check her house for traps after this but being in her pajamas was just asking for trouble.

"Of course not." She huffed in disbelief before heading up the stairs and Ivan turned back to his burger, it wasn't as bad as the ones that came from a fast food place. He had just finished and was wiping his fingers on a napkin when America came back down the stairs dressed as she normally did. He asked, "Why dress like that when I already know your secret? Put on something more comfortable." It was important to remind her that he knew she was a girl and to also encourage her to feel comfortable showing that side of her around him. She would then begin to associate him with a freedom that she normally didn't have and as such a freedom lover he was sure she wouldn't be able to ignore that.

She raised an eyebrow and said, "This is comfortable."

He gave her a smile, "If you say so, shall we go for a walk?" It was important not to push her, when she was his though... that would be a different story. He didn't notice that his smile had mutated into a less friendly one and America was looking at him warily.

They headed out of the house and as they walked down the street several people waved to Alfred. But she wasn't trying to start up a conversation so he decided it was up to him. A question came to him and he asked, "What should I call you since you have a boy name?"

She scowled, "My name is Alfred, that's the name I was given and I like it." England had given it to her and she wasn't going to part with it just because someone had found out about her being a girl.

"Very well." It really didn't matter to him but from the look on her face he knew better than to try and shorten it to something like Ally, though he might try it sometime he wanted to make her mad. They fell silent as they continued walking and without even asking they both turned into the entrance of the park. Alfred didn't even care; she just let herself follow Russia as she thought about what she actually needed to do today. It was because of this that she didn't even notice the flower stand until Ivan asked, "Would you like some flowers?"

"Absolutely not." She knew he was just trying to make fun of her or this was some kind of mind game. But even though she had to be polite to him so that he didn't tell her secret she wasn't going to just agree with whatever he suggested.

"Why not, they're pretty." And fresher than any he had seen back home, the sunflowers seemed to flutter their petals at him, like eyelashes.

"Then get some for yourself."

He turned away from the flower stall to look at her and ask, "Are you angry at me?" He didn't see why she would be; all he was offering was some flowers, women were supposed to like flowers just as much as he did. He knew anytime he gave his sisters flowers they smiled at him, well Belarus also demanded he marry her but she was still happy.

She unclenched her fists as she replied, "No— just annoyed. I had hoped you wouldn't treat me any differently after finding out and here you are saying stupid stuff to me." Alfred didn't want to be treated like a girl; she liked machines, guns, flying and anything else that caught her attention.

"It is not stupid, you are a girl and I am trying to treat you like one. It must be hard having to hide who you really are." He knew that feeling all too well, in this age of peace he was never allowed to be sadistic as he wanted to be.

"But this is me. I act the way I feel like almost all the time." Probably a bit too much of the time if she was honest with herself.

The more she spoke the more of a puzzle she was becoming and the more Russia found himself interested in her, before he had always just thought about her power. He asked, "What about when you don't?"

A wry smile pulled up the corner of her mouth, "Even I know a little about discretion."

Though that all made sense he had to know, "Don't you want the world to see you as you are, a woman?" She was a handsome one and Russia knew that he would be happy to be seen with her. He smiled as a new idea came to him.

The answer was yes, sometimes she did dream of wearing dresses and not being made fun of for her weird food cravings. "Occasionally, but for my country's sake that's not possible." She wasn't blind, she saw how male counties acted towards female one, how they tried to protect them, how the women rarely lived on their own.

"But what if you could not be connected to being America?" He didn't want to come right out and say what he was thinking, he had to test the waters because if she thought it was a stupid idea he in turn would look stupid and he hated that, the strong never looked foolish.

"I suppose that would be kinda nice, but when's that going to happen?" Her entire life was for her country; she fought with them in battle, dealt with paperwork, and went to social events for them. But it wasn't so bad to do all that because she also got to happy with them and her people were so happy; they tried to let pain roll off them like water off a duck's back.

That sounded enough like a yes for him to say, "I have just the event, all of us European countries are holding a Midwinter Ball, I don't have a date yet so you can accompany me."

"What?" Somehow that sentence didn't make sense to her. She had always known about the Midwinter Ball but had never actually gone, or cared that she wasn't invited.

He smiled, "It's prefect, America is not supposed to be there, you will simply be my pretty escort." Also it would be a perfect opportunity to snap a few black mail pictures of her in a dress in case she ever decided to cause him trouble.

"But a Ball sounds fancy and I don't have any dresses." She could count on one hand how many times she had worn one. Mrs. Washington had let her borrow one once to try on after she had found her secret. The second time she worn one was so she wasn't recognized as she crossed the German countryside when her plane had been shot down. The third, the third had been in a dress she had went and bought and had wanted to try it on, she had wanted to show someone but things hadn't worked out, it was best not to dwell on it.

He waved that aside, "Come to my house the day of the Ball and I will take care of you."

She frowned up at him and a jolt ran through him, she had not looked at him so intently since the Cold War and he had missed that. "Why are you doing this?"

In return he gave her his biggest smile and asked, "Can I not just be a good friend?" There had been a time when America would have agreed they were friends, back in the days of tsars.

"We spent about half a century close to blowing each other up." She would like to forget but she knew that European nations never forgot anything. England was still angry about her gaining her independence and would bring it up every single fucking time he was drunk.

"True, but water under the bridge." Compared to all the other wars he had been in the Cold War had been not so bad, his people had not died by foreign hands, he had not been forced to burn his beloved cities and farms. He could forgive her for opposing him; it would only make the day when she would be one with him sweeter.

When she thought about it this might also be an interesting opportunity to see how everyone acted when she wasn't around. "Fine, I'll come, but I'll be watching you."

"I would expect nothing less from you Sunflower." The nickname slipped from his tongue, he could vaguely remember using it back when they had been close.

She hoped to god that she wasn't blushing but the heat spreading across her face told her otherwise, "Don't call me that!" She took a swing at him with one fist, missing his head only by inches as he dodged.

A laugh burst some his throat, harsh in its truth, as he distanced himself from her and told her, "The ball is January 3rd, I'll be expecting you around three in the afternoon Sunflower." He expected the next blow and danced back even farther until she was on one side of the path and he on the other.

She closed in on him and he turned and ran, she shouted, "Damn it, get back here, I'm going to crush your skull!"

But he didn't stop running and she gave chase, steadily gaining ground on him under they reached the edge of the park. A car was waiting for Russia right where he had told it to be, he had expected to be able to offer America a ride home, not slamming the door and ordering the driver to just drive like he was being chased by Belarus. It didn't surprise him when she kept chasing him, powerful legs eating up the ground. He regretted having to skip a fight but if she got any bruises now they would not heal before the Ball. But hopefully after seeing her and having something to look forward to he'd be able to focus better on his work.

America stopped after three blocks, breathing a little harder than normal and then she realized that she was laughing between breathes. This had been a good day, it reminded her of times when they have been this close, when she would have just grumbled at the nickname while blushing on the inside. Hearing him call her that again reminded her of the time when she had almost let him know her secret by her own free will.

The remembrance was a punch in the guts, for so long she had forced herself to forget that they could get along. She had had a major crush on Ivan, who didn't treat her like a child; he treated her like an equal. As she walked home through the chill she could admit that she had even loved him. When he had had his revolution she had been so happy, she had believed that now he would be a country for the people by the people they could be together.

But then she had visited him, a dress packed in her suitcase, she had planned to invite him for a walk after dinner and wear it. He had greeted her with an insane smile and while he had always been a little off it had never been this bad. Ivan talked about death and killing and how if he killed enough then everything would be fine. Then he had begun saying that she was a filthy capitalist bastard for now but soon she'd see the light and change. Even if he had to make her. That had scared her and the dress had stayed in the suitcase, she had thrown it out once she got home. But now that the war was over she was beginning to see bits of the man she had loved show though again. Maybe this Ball would be a good chance to see what she should think of him now.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Girly

Disclaimer: I do not own

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: genderbending

Characters/Pairings: Russia/fem!America

Summary: Alfred's always kept her secret from everyone but on one winter afternoon Russia finds out.

America stretched as she stepped out of the airport and glanced around for a taxi to hail. She had made sure to bring her heaviest coat so the winter chill, while really, really bad wasn't going to kill her, especially if she could find a taxi quick enough. Instead she saw a man in a suit holding a sign that said ALFRED JONES on it. Uncertain that it was really for her she walked up and asked, "Did Ivan send you?"

The man gave a curt nod, "Yes, Mr. Braginski ordered me to drive you to his house."

Well the whole robot act was kind of creeping her out, what was with Russia and England and their show no emotion people? Though she guessed that her own people could be a bit too serious too. Whenever she had the time she did enjoy going to their offices and trying to make them smile. She got in the car, the man got in the front and they drove off. Alfred hadn't brought anything but her carry on backpack that had a DS and some games, her ipod, plus a hairbrush and some pins in it. She wasn't quite sure what she could do with her hair but it'd be weird to use someone else's hairbrush. They rolled up the driveway and Alfred got out to see Ivan standing there, not bothered in the least by the cold. She hurried inside and he followed her, shutting the door behind him, resisting the urge to lock it, it would be too easy, but not yet, patience. "I'm pleased to see that you made it."

She smiled and pulled off her coat, she had to admit it was nice not to have to wear it or have it discovered she was a girl. "Yeah I almost didn't because the one guy at the front desk gave me a hard time when I didn't want to be searched. But I called someone to get him to back off." That someone just happened to be her Boss but she didn't need to go into that.

He returned her smile as he said, "Ah, poor America, hassled by her own citizens." Whenever he went out no one gave him any problems, they knew who he was and kept their distance, even when he didn't want them too.

Not really interested in starting any arguments that could be avoided, she had to spend the entire evening with the guy. "Anyway... about this Ball thing." It was so weird to talk about anything so fancy sounding.

"Of course. I laid out your clothes in the first guest room, please come this way." They walked through the halls which were gaining back some of their old luster, right after the fall of the Soviet Union it had been a real mess. Ivan was glad to show her something better than that, he wanted to impress her and knew that this could do it, her own house was so simple, big, but simple.

Wanting to do something besides stare at the portraits as they passed them by she asked, "So how're you?"

He shrugged, "Busy, but when am I not? And you?"

"Anytime I'm not working I've kinda got sucked into this video game called Persona 4, it's really great and you're the hero and fight these Shadows to rescue you friends." She honestly had been slacking off at work occasionally to sneak in a half hour of playing, but he didn't need to know that.

Ivan didn't play anything besides the occasional game of Tetris and could never quite understand her fascination with complex games that weren't real. "Of course you would play any game that made you the hero."

She didn't like the tone in his voice. "Hey, Japan's the one who made it."

The stopped at a door and Russia turned to her with a smile, "Well here we are, I will send someone to you soon to assist you."

He opened the door and America walked in rolling her eyes as she said, "Whatever, I manage to put on my own clothes every other day of the week." That was one thing she had never been able to figure out, it seemed once a person had money they suddenly forgot how to dress themselves.

On the bed was the dress she assumed she'd be wearing and she picked it up to look at it. But her attention was drawn away from it because beneath the dress were several different sized strapless bras and she had to blush at them. She would be wearing an undergarment that Ivan had bought for her or had ordered someone to buy for her. At least it wasn't underwear.

Ivan came across one of the maids of his house, "You."

She stopped dusting and turned around and bowed as she said, "Yes sir?" Her eyes never met his; instead they focused on his feet.

"Do you know how to do hair and makeup?"

"Yes sir." After living through three daughters and doing her own every morning she hoped that was enough to satisfy whatever he was going to require of her. Though she knew that he was not nearly as crazy as back in the days when the communist party was in control she could sometimes see glimpses of it and didn't want to be the target of it.

"Good, go into the first guest room and attend to the lady." He wasn't going to say she was America if he could help it; walls had always had ears in his country.

"Yes sir." She bowed again and began to move, but his next words made her pause.

"Oh and make sure to treat her with respect, I would not want her to be upset." He gave his biggest smile at and loved the way she shivered a bit as she glanced up at his face.

"Yes sir." She hurried off and Russia continued on to his rooms to prepare himself.

America finished putting on her shoes and stood. After fussing with the dress, trying to make it sit right she looked into the full-length mirror hanging on the wall to take what she was wearing in. The fabric of the dress was a deep blue and flowed almost all the way to the floor and the bottom was lined with black fur, soft as air, almost hiding the black slippers that were on her feet. More black fur went over her right shoulder and then wrapped under her other arm. In the front, over each of her hipbones, an end of a sheer black scarf was fastened and it looped around the back, when she tried to stride forward it restricted her movement and she had to take smaller steps. That would help her not give herself away with her normal big, swinging strides but it was a pain.

There was a knock on the door and she called, "Come in." Was Ivan back already, or had he sent someone to help her? Well that would show him, she was already done.

An elderly woman entered and said, "Master Ivan sent me to assist you." Alfred found it disconcerting how she didn't meet her eyes as she spoke but smiled at her anyway.

"That's fine, I already got dressed."

With another bow she said, "I'm to help with your hair and makeup." She glanced up to see how short her hair was and decided that was where she wanted to start. "If it's okay I'll begin on your hair first."

Alfred laughed and fingered the short strands that were barely longer than England's, "There's nothing to be done with it." She had occasionally wanted to grow it out as long as France's but had always been too afraid of the fact she was a girl being recognized. It had always been a close shave whenever someone noticed that even when they had been at a meeting for days with little rest there was no stubble of her face. She blamed slow growing hair and cleanliness, after all Germany, the neat freak, always managed to not have facial hair either.

She remember his warning about making sure the lady was happy so she said in her most calming voice. "Don't worry, it'll look very pretty, in already does." Honestly she didn't know what possessed any woman so that they cut their hair like a man's.

"Whatever, I'm sure you know best." She remembered something and went to her bag that she had just dropped on the floor and pulled her hairbrush out. "Here's my hair brush."

She took it and noticed how old it seemed to be; half off the little plastic nibs had been broken off. "Please sit down so I can begin."

America sat down, not exactly sure what to expect but the woman's hands were strong and steady as they fixed her hair and it felt good so she closed her eyes and just relaxed. It was nice to be like this, not having to be stressed with work, not having to be troubled by how young she was compared to everyone else. Tonight no one would know who she was and she'd be free to just smile without anyone chastising her, telling her that there was nothing to smile about when she could almost always find some small reason. During the brushing the woman's hands had brushed over Nantucket several times but Alfred just ignored it until she begins to fuss with it, trying to make it behave. With a red face she opened her eyes and batted the hand away as she said, "J-just leave that, it'll never behave." Actually it might with more work but it was too embarrassing to sit through that kind of stimulation.

She bowed as she apologized, "I'm sorry." The woman's reaction was weird but she didn't dare question it.

Alfred shrugged, "Nothing to be sorry for just leave it alone." before she closed her eyes again, waiting for the older woman to finish what she had been doing. Soon enough the feeling of her brush making its way through her hair returned.

The maid finished and asked, "Does it suit your approval?"

She opened her eyes and saw that the hair in front did look longer, almost like some of the other girls in her country that kept their hair short. "It looks really nice, I won't thought it possible. Thanks!"

The huge smile made her flinch back until she realized it was a real, unthreatening version of Master Ivan's. For the first time she wondered who this woman was but all she said was, "It was no trouble. We could start on your makeup now."

"Sure, there's a case of it on the bed." Alfred had honestly just planned on ignoring it and going as she was. She'd never put the stuff on before.

She closed her eyes again, letting the old woman do whatever she wanted. It wasn't like she could help at all anyway. After a long bit where the woman seemed to do something to every part of her face and did something to her arms she said, "I'll need you to open your eyes for this part." Alfred did so and flinched as the woman brought a pencil to her eye, she thought it might be eyeliner but wasn't too sure and what sane person let people put pencils right next to their eyes? The maid drew the pencil back as she said, "Please don't fidget or I'll end up poking you in the eye Miss."

"But it's weird." Now she was starting to see why the women at the office always complained about getting ready in the morning.

A small smile quirked her mouth as she said, "You don't wear makeup a lot do you?" This woman reminded her of her second daughter, especially those bright blue eyes.

"No Ma'm."

"Don't worry, you'll look so stunning that even Master Ivan will be star struck." She couldn't actually imagine what that would be like and didn't think that it would be safe for the blonde if he was. Whenever Russia was interested in something or someone he was as bad as Belarus, if not worse because he was bigger and wielded his pipe with frightening control compared his sister's wild swinging.

She crossed her arms, "I don't care if he is or not." Well actually she might just a little but that didn't matter.

"Of course not." But the older woman could see the little pout on her lips that said differently. With the final flick of the mascara brush she said, "There we go, look in the mirror and tell me what you think."

Alfred turned and stood to see how she looked. What she saw made her stare at her reflection, the woman in the mirror looked elegant and beautiful like she had never looked before. When England had made her dress up before it had been in men's clothes and the times she had actually worn a dress she had never done anything to her face and hair. But the makeup really did help bring out her more beautiful points. There was a knock on the door and she said, "Come in." as they turned to see who else was coming in.

Russia entered and his eyes fixed on Alfred. She wasn't overly busty but out of her jacket and in a tight dress she made a very pleasing figure. He bowed to her and walked closer, barely noticing the maid hurrying out. "You look better than expected."

"Thanks- hey wait a minute!"

"Calm down Sunflower, I'm just teasing you." When she looked less like she was going to shout at him he asked, "Was the maid well behaved?"

She nodded, "Yes she was very nice, whatever she said was really calming, unlike you." Alfred didn't resist the urge to tease him since he had no compunctions about doing the same to her.

"Really? I've never been able to get more than 'yes sir' or 'no sir' out of her. I wonder why?" He gave his best innocent smile and watched America roll her eyes at him. "Anyway, how do you like the dress?"

She tried to take a step towards him and found her movement halted halfway through her normal stride and replied, "I can barely move."

"I know, that's part of its beauty." He said that with such a look on his face that America wanted to punch him right in the jaw.

"I swear you'll never convince me to wear a dress again in my life." Damn him for being able to do it this once, but never again, not even if she was drunk would anyone get her into a dress.

"That's a shame, you're so cute when you're just a little helpless." It made him want to not go to the Ball and just keep her here, one day, for now he would show her off to the world. "But something's missing." He walked to the place behind her and thought they looked very pleasing together in the mirror. In his left hand was something wrapped in cloth.

"What?" She swore that if anyone tried poking around her eyes again she'd shoot them, she had her pistol strapped to one thigh, hidden just in case.

"Close your eyes." She scowled, not sure if she should trust him before doing so, if anything odd happened she could just open them again. Large hands ran through her hair, pushing down Nantucket, she hid her squirm well, before placing something heavy on her head that kept it down. "You can open them now."

A tiara of silver shaped like a pair of wings wrapped around her head with a diamond in the center and a small sphere of sapphire on top of that. Though it was uncomfortable having Nantucket being restrained by constant pressure it did make her look even less like her normal self. She touched it with gentle fingers, not used to having something so precious on her head.

Then she focused on Ivan whose reflection was behind her's. He looked... different in his suit. America had never seen him in a tailcoat and lacy cravat before, though the cream fabric was so high all the way around there was no more of his neck showing than normal. His hair was better groomed than usual too. He caught her eye and asked, "So my dear, may I have your opinion?"

That was even worse than Sunflower. "Don't call me 'my dear'. But you look passable I suppose, too stuffy though." She wasn't about to tell him how good he looked; he might get ideas or laugh at her.

"This is the attire of a gentleman." He had thought the same thing at first though when Peter had insisted on him wearing it.

"You're wearing more lace than me." Not that she had any lace on but that wasn't the point.

"But at least I can walk." Not giving her a chance to say anything back he wrapped one arm around her waist and whispered in her ear, "Together we make a fetching pair. One day everyone will see how beautiful we are together." One day everyone would fear their combined power that would exceed anything the world had ever seen.

The implications went right over her head and she asked, "Won't they see us tonight at the Ball?" She let one hand rest on the arm encircling her.

He looked down and saw that her hand was callused and there were scars marking it. An especially prominent one that stretched from the middle of her ring finger to her wrist caught his eyes and he asked, "What happened there?"

She didn't look down, knowing which one he must be referring to and not wanting to see it, "Oh that, that's just a mistake I made, I'm pretty clumsy." That was just one of the many small marks that added together to form the loss of her native people, though at least there were still some left.

"Maybe I should get you some gloves." He himself was going to put on a pair soon.

"No it's fine, I usually wear gloves so no one has ever noticed these." The way she said it made him brush his fingers lightly down her arm and he could feel scars that she or the maid had spent time covering up with makeup on her arms. They reminded him of his own scars, all covered by layers for warmth, and wondered how many more were covered by the dress. But she pushed his hands away and laughed as she said, "You're being weirder than usual."

He felt a thrill go through him as he realized she wasn't ashamed of her scars. She only covered them so other people didn't pry, like him, the scars on his neck were signs that he had survived what he had but not just anyone could see them. One day he would have her and he'd memorize every single one on her and she would know his as well but for now he just said, "Shall we go?"


	4. Chapter 4- The End

They arrived back at the airport that Alfred had come from, but instead of going on a commercial flight they headed to where the smaller private planes were and climbed aboard a black one. Russia checked the cockpit and said, "The pilot's late." He would remember to have him fired but would restrain from making him disappear if he showed up in the next five minutes.

She followed him and stepped into the cockpit, looking around and then sitting in the pilot's chair. "Well then let's leave without him."

"Can you fly this?" America had a tendency to rush into things without really knowing how to do them and if he was going to trust her to get this plane off the ground and not crash he wanted to make sure. A thought hit him and he cautioned her, "This plane isn't the same as the ones you flew in World War II."

The look she gave him could peel paint and actually made even him shrink back a little, "I know, it's not like I haven't flown a plane since then. I flew one of this same model just a month ago actually."

He had a feeling that if he said anything else against it she was going to throw something at him so he just sat frown in the copilot seat and said, "Then I'll trust you to get us there safely."

As she got the plane into the air she asked, keeping her eyes on the controls and sky, "Where is there anyways, you never told me where we were going."

"It's taking place in London this year, five years ago it took place in Petersburg." That had been a good year, though South Italy kept whining about the cold until he had smiled at him and agreed before asking if he could come hang out at his house sometime. He had stopped talking or making eye contact at that point.

She nodded as they passed through the clouds and said, "Right then, let's get this show on the road." Once she was in the air she felt free, the clouds beneath them reminded her of the open prairies of home.

To Ivan's surprise the plane ride went without any problems and the landing was smoother than his regular pilot managed. During the flight he translated a few of the more technical words for her and just watched as she managed everything, with the evening light on her she was exquisite, strong arms guiding them and a loose smile on her face. Some part of him would have been willing to miss the Ball if they could have just stayed up there. But the spell was broken when she turned off the plane and smirked, "I told you I could fly this baby."

He smiled as he said, "I never doubted you." and held out his arm for her to take, she didn't even look at it as she stood and they exited the plane.

Once they got out of the plane Alfred had expected a car to be waiting for them but instead there was a carriage with a team of horses hitched to the front standing on the runway. She raised an eyebrow and Ivan raised an eyebrow right back before getting in. Once they were settled inside, her dress had decided to get a little twisted around her legs, she asked, "Have you heard of an invention called a car?" It would get them there faster.

"This is part of getting into the spirit of the Ball. You'll enjoy it once you're there. My favorite part is the dancing, I never get to waltz anymore." It would also be nice to dance with someone besides Belarus who wouldn't let go afterwards or another man because then they always argued about who was going to lead, he usually won though.

She knew her voice squeaked as she said, "Waltz? We have to waltz?"

"Of course, let me guess, you're out of practice?" The rest of them did it every year at least but he supposed that America did not have any opportunities to do so.

Alfred couldn't meet those violet eyes as she admitted, "No, I never learned." His lilting giggles were mixed with something darker, richer and real and she looked up as she growled, "Stop laughing!"

He managed to stop, "Sorry." She could tell he wasn't actually. "Don't worry, I'll be leading."

Somehow that smirk on his face, how he said he'd be in control like it was only natural and the fact she was wearing a dress made her snap, "See, that's why I don't like being a girl! Everybody wants to lead girls and have us depend on them. I'm the hero, not a follower!"

He took in her expression and realized that she was serious about this and in an attempt to calm her said, "It's just for the dance, don't worry, I know you're strong." That was the reason he felt such an attraction to her after all. "Though when you're one with me we'll both be even stronger." Maybe even strong enough to not need a boss, he could rule better than any of them and she would be his empress who sat at him side.

Back on familiar ground she scoffed, "As if that'll happen." But her temper was already mollified by him admitting she was strong.

He gave his most insincere smile as he said, "Of course I was just kidding." He put an arm over her shoulder and enjoyed the fact that she did not try and get rid of it. They sat like this until they got the place the Ball was being held. They got out, leaving their jackets in the coach, and she didn't take his offered arm again until he said, "Please take my arm so no one wonders if you're really a woman."

She rolled her eyes and snorted at the irony before she took it. He reminded himself to take shorter strides so that she could keep up in that dress of hers. The doormen opened the doors for them and they went inside. Ivan smiled as he noticed heads turn towards them and stay there, and why should they not? They should admire the woman on his arm and wonder who she was. England approached them to greet them as was proper for the host country and after he said a terse greeting to Ivan he turned the lovely young woman on his arm, frowning a little when he didn't recognize her and said, "It's a pleasure to have you here."

America was about to say something back when she suddenly realized that if she opened her mouth and spoke she would be recognized so she didn't reply and looked at the floor. Fuck, she hadn't thought of this at all, probably all of the countries would recognize her voice too, seemed like she'd be spending the evening mute, except when she talked to Russia.

He figured out the problem seconds after she looked at the floor and made up an excuse, "I'm sorry she's a bit shy."

England didn't believe that, Russia had probably threatened her to keep her silent. "That's fine, who is she?" If he knew her name he could visit her and talk to her then, if she was really in danger then he was sure he could get France and America to help rescue her from Russia. France because he'd save anything in a skirt and America because he had to save everyone that needed help.

He smiled and said, "That's a secret." As England walked away he bent and said in America's ear, "Well that went well."

"Great. Just cover for me anytime someone talks to me." If she had known this was going to happen she wouldn't have agreed to come, she loved speaking her mind but for entire evening she'd just have to let Russia do the talking. The pair headed towards the far wall since the band was still playing quiet music not meant for dancing.

"As you wish." He would have teased her about how she would have to be careful about screaming for help but he saw North Italy approaching them so he straightened up and said, "Hello."

The shorter man gave him a wave before focusing on Alfred, "Ve hi there pretty lady, how are you enjoying the Ball?" From the corner of his eye Ivan saw Germany shaking his head.

He wasn't going to stand for someone hitting on his date, they could look but the idea of them getting close to her was enough to make his smile turn deadly. "Italy, I think you should back off someone else's date. Just saying."

Italy did so, running back to Germany's side. America scolded him, "You should be nicer to him, he means well."

He had no interest in explaining the thoughts going through his head so he commented, "Perhaps you should not be so forgiving, then people would be less likely to walk all over you."

For a moment she wanted to deck him but instead she said, "Right, we are not fighting about that this evening. Bring it up later and I'll show you what happens to people that try and walk all over me when I don't let them." They came close to the wall and stopped there, far enough away from everyone else that as long as she kept her voice low no one would hear her besides Russia.

He saw her clenched fists and knew exactly what she meant and replied, "Sounds delightful." As fun as it was to have her in a dress he did want to fight her again. He was happy to have found someone like her, prefect for events like this or a fight that left them both with ugly bruises.

They continued talking, keeping their voices low until Russia noticed someone watching them. He turned to see England staring at them and smiled at him before wrapping his arm around America's waist. She almost shouted but remembered herself enough that she just hissed, "Hey! What are you doing?"

He didn't look at her, instead locking eyes with England in a silent challenge as he said, "Sending a message to wandering eyes." He didn't give a damn if England was the host, if he tried anything he'd show him that there were consequences for messing with what was Russia's.

She put a hand on his arm and shoved at it a little, not wanting to cause a scene but insisting, "Well do it without touching me alright?" But his arm was really warm and was pressing her against him closer than she would be without a good excuse. She just hoped he wouldn't notice her flush under her makeup.

He glanced down and said, "You sound like Japan." Then he noticed that her ears were a little pink and smirked.

She crossed her arms and looked away from his gaze that she was sure saw too much. "I do not."

The music began picking up and getting louder and several other couples began moving towards the dance floor, Italy was practically dragging Germany along, but the blonde wasn't really struggling. Russian began pulling her to the dance floor too but she stood her ground and said, "Do we really have to do this?"

"Just follow my lead and everything will be okay." When her frown deepened he sighed and said, "Sometimes strength is in the process of sitting back and learning." For years when he was younger he had done just that, had suffered so he could learn, had followed Peter to Europe ravenous for knowledge that could make him stronger.

"Fine." She let him bring her to the dance floor and for a moment all the couples stood still and then they began to dance. She felt like a little girl again, England had once tried to teach her the steps and she had stood on his shoes as they shuffled about the room. But this was different, now a warm hand was on her back and directing her enough that she wasn't too bad.

Francis smiled as he saw Alfred dancing with Ivan, for a long time he had known America was a woman. It was only natural that he, a lover of beauty, would notice it when no one else did. It had been a private joke of his that the Statue of Liberty was also a woman. But she looked so happy at the moment that France wasn't going to let her know he knew. Besides he could vividly imagine Ivan bringing his pipe down on his stunning face and breaking teeth as a warning that he didn't need not to tell. He looked around until he spotted Arthur and went off to bother him.

After five dances America had finally convinced her date that they should take a break and Ivan had went to get drinks and Alfred had returned to the place they had stood before. Latvia approached her and put a consoling hand on her arm and said, "It's okay, me and my brothers survived staying with him, I'm sure you'll survive."

Something in his tone didn't sound so sure of that, she tilted her head to one side in a questioning gesture, damn it Russia needed to get back here or else she might actually have to speak.

He fidgeted and for the first time America noticed how short the kid was. "Well you're dancing with Russia so we assumed..." Years of living with Russia had taught him to never speak his mind.

She suddenly got his meaning and shook her head from side to side vehemently.

The fact that she was not saying a word confused him but maybe she was mute, or maybe Russia had done something to her. But she didn't seem to think she was joining with Russia so he said, "Oh I see I'm sorry, please don't tell him! You won't right?"

She nodded her head and he looked about ready to say something until he saw that Russia was steadily approaching them, two glasses in his hands. With a hastily goodbye he quickly left. When Russia came close he handed here her glass and asked, "So what was Latvia saying?" at the same time.

She took a drink, wincing as vodka hit her tongue when she had been expecting water and replied, "He thought I'd be moving in with you soon, which I won't."

He smiled put his arm around her waist, "Of course not."

They finished their drinks and then Ivan dragged her off for a few more dances before it was time to go. As they walked down the stairs Alfred admitted, "It was a nice evening."

"I'm glad, the dancing wasn't too bad?" He would see if he could bully her into dancing with him again, with some practice she could be very decent at it.

She couldn't help by smile as she said, "It was the worst part." Though it hadn't been bad at all to be wrapped up in his arms.

A loud slurring voice shouted, "Hey, you whore! Hey!"

America turned to see at the bottom of the steps was a drunk, staggering under his own weight and carrying a jug. But just because he was drunk didn't mean he could say that and she began, "Now listen—" before promptly being cut off when she was drenched with whatever was in the jug, it seemed to have been mostly full.

"Serves you right. I hope you freeze!"

Russia smiled with rage and said, "Wait right here while I teach him why no one messes with my date." It was a pity he had left his lead pipe at home but he could make do with his hands.

Alfred declared, "I can handle myself." She rushed forward, used to the way she had to move in the dress, and punched the man on the nose. Ivan heard the crunch of bone and then watched the man run, howling in pain and clutching his nose. He made a mental note to have his people check the hospitals and police for him; as usual America had been much too merciful. But for now he simply moved forward and draped his suit jacket over her shoulders, which had begun to shake from cold.

His suit jacket settled on her shoulders, still warm from his body heat. It smelled like him too and she didn't mind the scent at all. When they got into the carriage she left it on under her real jacket and as they rumbled down the streets. He encircled her in his arms and she didn't struggle, there would be tomorrow for things like that but for now she was content to just be his girl.


End file.
